The start of the new term.

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Ji Ning had assumed that in such a prestigious place as Deer Academy, there wouldn’t be any entrance examinations. But after all, this was an academy—a place for teaching students—and the very duty of a student was to prepare for exams. Despite his years of experience with high-stakes testing, Ji Ning still couldn’t help but silently curse whoever invented exams before each one began. What kind of person would devise such a torment, designed expressly to make students miserable after a perfect holiday? May that soul forever sing duets of love songs with ancient gods in the abyss.

Gazing at the sheepskin scroll covered in complex and intimidating patterns, the massive sword nearly as tall as a man glowing with a faint blue light, and the modest, unadorned assault rifle, Ji Ning realized he’d been wrong—just not that wrong. No matter how much he tried to prepare himself mentally, nothing could have braced him for the announcement that the first exam would be an assessment of countermeasures against the randomly summoned minions of an evil god. No normal person could stay composed after that.

Deer Academy also had entrance exams. Every new student was required to spend two weeks undergoing a battery of tests covering language, psychology, physical ability, and more. From Ancient Uralic to humanoid mechanical body language, from the classification of the faiths of Chaos Splitters to the doctrines of the Second Maritime Towing Church, the content was all-encompassing. The only humane aspect was that students could hand in their papers early, or even forfeit the exam altogether. But no one who made it to this academy was here to slack off; all were capable in some specialized field—save, perhaps, for one particular individual.

Thus, Ji Ning’s unique distinction was that he stood out everywhere he went—even if his one-of-a-kind F grade was the sort no one would ever desire. He quickly made a name for himself after the entrance exam, becoming notorious overnight.

On his way to the cafeteria after finishing the entrance exams, people would point and whisper behind his back. Yet he didn’t react aggressively, nor did he utter anything melodramatic like, “Just wait thirty years from now, don’t look down on the youth of today.” Having spent twenty years as an ordinary person, he simply felt a familiar sense of resignation.

The world was always like this. People claimed to value virtue and soul, but in truth, no one judged others by their invisible inner qualities. In the material world, one needed money and status to command respect. In the supernatural world, things were simpler: all that mattered was power.

The day after the assessments ended, with nothing better to do, Ji Ning was wandering aimlessly when he ran into Senior Irina again. He kept his head lowered, sneaking glances at her strikingly long legs, until Irina fixed him with a half-amused, half-serious look. Only then did Ji Ning reluctantly raise his eyes, boldly admiring her legs instead.

No one likes being stared at furtively, but if you look at someone openly, with appreciation and sincerity, most women will at most glance back to see where your confidence comes from. If your confidence comes from good looks or wealth, you’ll get a playful glare at best. Otherwise, the verdict is passed in their hearts.

Ji Ning hadn’t used the black card yet, so he had nothing of wealth in his bearing. Yet after a glance at his face, Irina let his impolite gaze slide.

“I don’t know where you come from, and I don’t want to know. All I need to know is this: you are, through and through, an ordinary person.” Irina produced a bottle of whiskey from somewhere, took a sip, and let her gaze drift to the many indescribable statues that adorned Deer Academy.

Ji Ning sighed deeply. “Senior, I had no choice either. I really am just an ordinary guy.”

“I don’t care why you’re here, or who recommended you. The fact remains: you’re here now.” She paused. “And this is not a place for ordinary people.”

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Before Ji Ning could reply, she continued, “So you have to become extraordinary. Because I am your supervisor.” Irina, boots clicking, drew closer. At the word “I,” she reached out with slender, porcelain-like fingers and tapped Ji Ning on the shoulder, forcing him to take two steps back.

“I can’t tolerate being the supervisor of an F-grade rookie. When people point and laugh at you, they drag my name into it as well.” Irina stated this with utter calm, her words as cold as ice despite her perfectly normal body temperature.

Ji Ning clutched his chest, gritting his teeth and feigning mortal injury, like a wounded dog making its last stand. “For love and justice, for world peace, I will become an S-grade existence!”

“Do you know what F-grade means? That’s F-grade.” Irina gestured to a fat cat sprawled lazily on a bench in the sun. The cat squinted at Ji Ning, rolled over, and went back to enjoying the winter sunlight.

Ji Ning’s face fell again. “I can’t help it. The world isn’t my stage play—I’m not the protagonist. Spouting hot-blooded lines won’t make me stronger. I’ve been ordinary for twenty years. I’m just here to get by and survive. Nobody wants to be a rookie, but it’s not as if wanting otherwise will change anything.”

“Good. Knowing you’re a rookie and refusing to settle for it—that’s the first step away from F-grade. Don’t worry about starting too late. You’re only twenty; you’ve got plenty of life to waste.” Irina let out a whistle and snapped her fingers with effortless cool.

“Firearms training, supernatural theory, hand-to-hand combat, and cold weapons combat—full course load, Monday through Saturday. That’s my minimum expectation for you. At least try to be a less pathetic rookie by end of term.” Irina left Ji Ning no room to refuse. She pulled a form from her coat pocket. “Sign your name.” Her words carried no emotion, as natural as a queen commanding a servant.

A command is a command because there is no alternative. Ji Ning took the form and signed his name with a touch of resignation.

Every student has had this thought at some point: to hell with school, I’m sleeping till tomorrow.

But fate always finds some way to shatter such beautiful plans—perhaps an alarm blaring the Internationale, perhaps a mother whipping off the warm covers. In the end, all students must carry out their mission: to study.

On Ji Ning’s first morning at Deer Academy, it wasn’t youthful passion or hope for life that dragged him from bed, but a Smith & Wesson M500 revolver, allegedly the most powerful in the world.

“Get up, kid. You’re the first student this year to be late for my class. Not bad.” A gleaming bald head shone with the first light of Ji Ning’s morning, while the dark muzzle was the perfect wake-up call.

Ji Ning had heard, “Only someone hopelessly in love would press a gun to your forehead and ask why you didn’t answer the phone.”

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“I am your firearms training professor, Flavius Theodosius. You may call me Professor Theodosius.” The bald, muscle-bound man—looking as if he’d just retired from the British underworld—paused in his self-introduction. “You may put on your clothes before putting your hands on your head.”

Ji Ning, in a perfect imitation of a World War II French salute, lowered his hands and mumbled bashfully, “Professor Theodosius, could you please wait outside while I get dressed? Otherwise, if you stay, you might see some indecent sights.”

In a life full of constraints, a young body needs a moment of freedom, like a fish gliding through water. Sleeping unclothed was Ji Ning’s final rebellion against the world.

“Here’s my first rule: punctual is late. You’d best check every night if you have my class the next day. If you do, and you don’t want to be woken up by me personally, set your alarm two hours early. The blasted academic office squeezed a two-semester course into one, so if you want to live to fill out my evaluation at the end, I have to take some of your personal time. Finally, though every professor probably says this, I’ll repeat it: what you learn here isn’t for credits. What matters is what you actually take away from these classes.”

Cigar clenched between his teeth, Theodosius drew out his M500 revolver. Dozens of still-sleepy youths trembled in front of him. Ji Ning followed the bald man across half the dormitory, watching him “greet” every student enrolled in firearms training, barging into every male student’s room and using his .50 caliber revolver as a wake-up call, replacing the various deer-themed alarms.

Ji Ning quickly realized he wasn’t the first latecomer to the professor’s class—just the first unlucky soul chosen.

Oddly, Theodosius never broke into the female students’ dorms. Yet when he herded the boys to the shooting range, the girls were already there, yawning and tinkering with their issued firearms as if they’d been waiting for ages.

Though Theodosius later claimed he’d intended to notify all students by email, but after sending the message to the girls in accordance with “ladies first,” the administrative system glitched and the rest never went out. Left with no choice, he used his unique method. Only a fool would believe such a conveniently fabricated excuse.

Ji Ning was certain this was deliberate. If it weren’t for the rule requiring administrator permission to enter the girls’ dorms, Theodosius would have treated everyone equally. After all, he’d never shown mercy during class.